


Double Date

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Breeding, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex with Monsters, Snu snu with horrible lizard monsters, for science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Leon Kennedy and Carlos Oliveira find themselves captured by Umbrella, who plan on using them for some very unorthodox experiments to create new monsters.
Relationships: Carlos Oliveira/Hunter, Leon S. Kennedy/Hunter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Double Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



“Hey! Hey!” Carlos yelled out, looking at the man laying on the gurney up next to his. He’d been yelling for the past… however long it had been since they wheeled the other guy into this room. 

He thought it was over. Get out of Raccoon City, and then… things would sort themselves out eventually. Instead, they ran into some sort of Umbrella mop-up operation and got grabbed. When he caught the butt of a rifle with the side of his head, the last thing he was yelling was for Jill to run.

After that, it was just a series of blood tests, _invasive_ medical exams, and a lot of swearing at assholes in lab coats and ineffective brawling with guards in full body armor when all he had was a pair of sweatpants. So he’d gotten plenty of bruises and absolutely nothing else to show for it. He wasn’t an escape artist—give him some C4 and he could figure a way out of a place, but circuits of his cell revealed absolutely no way out apparent to him. So he spent his time doing the same thing over and over.

Until today, when they wrestled him to the ground, he felt a sharp pinch in his arm, and things went black as that one doctor, the inexplicably attractive blonde one who loved the sound of her own voice stood over him with a syringe. He woke up, strapped onto a gurney in this room. Brightly lit white tile, what looked like a one-way glass panel on the wall to his left, and several very discomforting rust-covered stains. He yelled some obscenities, in English and Portuguese at the glass—it was a safe bet he was being watched. He tried to thrash his way out of the restraints; not even able to lift himself an inch against the straps holding him down at the ankles, knees, waist, and chest. When the goon squad wheeled in the other guy, Carlos took it upon himself to try and wake him up.

After what seemed like an eternity, the man twitched and groaned, lifting his head up, seeing that he was tied down, and slumping. Finally, he looked at Carlos. “What’s going on?”

 _Why_ did they bring them here? “Fuck if I know.” 

“Ah. Thanks.” The other guy grumbled. Carlos could tell he probably wasn't gonna like the guy already. “Who are you?”

“Carlos. I uh…” Okay, all things considered, he didn’t think he qualified as an Umbrella Biological Countermeasure Service operator any more. And saying he used to be an Umbrella employee probably would not earn him any points. “…they nabbed me after I got out of Raccoon.”

“Raccoon City? You were there?” The newcomer asked, taking a very apparent interest. Was he another survivor that they kidnapped? Well, fuck. “What were you doing?”

Again, working for Umbrella probably wasn’t the best thing to open with. “I was working with a cop… S.T.A.R.S. member to get out of there. We borrowed a helicopter, and when we landed...”

He’d thought a lot about what happened with Jill. She was a tough lady, with any luck she managed to evade the goon squad. At least, that’s what he hoped had happened. Because after everything he did, and how much she went through, how she trusted him to help her get out—he really wished he managed to not fuck up getting a single survivor out of town.

“A cop? From S.T.A.R.S.? I got out of there with a girl whose brother was in S.T.A.R.S.” The newcomer said. Carlos bit his lip—he had no idea who was in S.T.A.R.S. except for Jill and the zombie in the yellow vest that he’d gunned down on the steps of the RPD. He somehow managed to get trapped in a lab with absolutely the worst person to hold a conversation with. The other guy paused, and bitterly added “Small world, huh? Name’s Leon. R.P.D.”

Leon? R.P.D.? Carlos’s mind flashed back to dumb little welcome sign over a desk in the cop shop’s bullpen. He muttered “Small fuckin’ world.”

They ran out of things to talk about fast. Because there was only so much commiserating over the common ground of fucking eight-by-eight cells and a townful of zombies you could do before you ran out of things to say. Leon apparently ran into that big motherfucker though—although he said he was in a coat, when Carlos thought it was more of a poncho, maybe. Kinda like a garbage bag, actually. It was maybe five minutes when Carlos realized that there must've been _two_ big motherfuckers stomping around--Leon claimed killing his with a rocket launcher, when the one tailing Jill was killed by her.

Whiling away the minutes, trying and failing to break free, they asked a bunch of stupid questions. Did Carlos see the big dumb tongue things? Yeah. Leon spent a lot more time in the RPD... Carlos felt a twinge of regret that apparently he and Tyrell _should've_ done more to get the civilians out, given Leon's description. 

Eventually they fell silent neither one keep to say 'what's the most fucked up thing you saw'. Carlos idly asked it, Leon clammed up, and then, Carlos didn't have much to say either. Plenty of screwed up shit, but the one that jumped to his mind was Dr. Bard's recording... because it proved that he wasn't on the side of the angels this time around. So Carlos fell back to imaging shapes in the stains on the ceiling, while trying to not imagine what splattered that blood on the ceiling. Until Leon had to fuck things up. “What do you think they brought us here for, tied us up like this?”

There was a screech as an intercom came to life, and a voice rang out. “It's often safer to be in chains than to be free.”

Yeah, Carlos wasn’t exactly feeling safe at the moment.

“Well, hello nurse.” He said, forcing a smirk. He knew the voice and the melodramatic speech—belonged to that one scientist. He took her to be the head of Umbrella’s research here. He had no illusion the flirting would do anything. But if he couldn’t break free, at least he could be a pain in the ass to whoever came to do mad science.

“Doctor, actually.” She said, slightly amused. “Officer Kennedy, Raccoon Police Department; and Corporal Oliveira, Umbrella B…” 

“You’re with Umbrella, too?” Leon interjected, looking betrayed. 

“It’s complicated, okay?! _This_ wasn't in the job description.” They talked over one another for a while, Carlos shooting the occasional glance at the window. Okay, apparently there was _another_ group of Umbrella mercenaries, and _they_ started the whole problem by getting in a gunfight in a lab--that wasn't Carlos's fault, okay? The intercom let out a sigh, and Carlos kept talking—if nothing else this seemed to be getting on her nerves.

“So… would you like to know why you’re here?” the Doctor cut in.

“We’re going to be breeding stock for a stacked blonde doctor?” Carlos said, forcing a grin. 

“ _Why_ would you think that?” Leon asked. 

Carlos rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘pisses her off’.

His smug grin disappeared when the intercom rang out “Well, you’re half right, this time. ‘There is an infinite amount of hope in the universe ... but not for us.’.”

Something chimed underneath Carlos, and all of a sudden, the tight binding holding him down released. He forced himself to a sitting position, mirrored by Leon. Bare feet met the tile floor. The double doors to the exam room were unlocked when Leon tried it. “Okay, this definitely… _what_ is she planning?”

Absolutely nothing good.

Leon pulled the door open a crack, peering through. Carlos heard a faint _click-clack_ of claws on tile. Reminded him of a large dog, or… “Oh fuck. Barricade the door.”

Leon immediately pulled his head back from the door and helped Carlos shoved both gurneys against them. The surprisingly lightweight gurneys that just glided against the floor when they pushed them. The speed that Leon moved suggested he wasn’t doing this on Carlos’s advice, so much as the fact he had just seen _it._ Or _them_.

“How many?” Carlos demanded. The gurneys were _light._ Not the sort of barricade that would hold long at all.

“Two, for now.” The intercom said. “We’ll see about adding more depending on your performance… and survival.”

Carlos turned in a circle, attempting to think of something to smash against the one-way glass. Only thing that wasn’t bolted down were the gurneys. Leon was way ahead of him, wheeling one from the makeshift barricade and saying “Give me a hand.”

That was when the doors flew open, the other gurney flipping on its side. The doctor was telling the truth, there were two of the big, ugly, stocky bastards. Green-yellow eyes fiercely sized them up. Mandibles rubbed against each other, over a mouthful of razor teeth. Fucking hell—Carlos had a close shave with two of these bastards in the hospital, and that was with an assault rifle and a couple frag grenades. Now? He had two gurneys and guy named Leon. They quickly wheeled the gurney they intended to batter the glass with between the hunters and themselves, and then it went flying when one of the hunters swung its clawed arm, catching it and sending it airborne.

Carlos backed himself into a corner, tensing up. Leon was following suit—one of the creatures, hunched low to the ground. Leon yelled as the hunter pounced on him, palms outstretched; crashing to the floor. Carlos tried to skirt the edge of the room around the hunter, diving to avoid it, scrambling above an upturned gurney. A massive paw smacked into his calf, sending him sprawling. 

It yanked him, and he rolled, kicking his bare foot against the critter’s face, intending to make the hunter work for its supper. It yipped angrily and shook its head briefly, eyes narrowing on him when he managed to get on his feet. He backed up, keeping his eyes on the Hunter. 

It didn't help much.

He was bounced against the wall, hard as the thing slammed into him seeing stars and stumbling. The Hunter pinned him against the wall; trapping his right arm with its bulky frame. He pounded the creature with his left hand, nicking the heel of his hand against some protruding scale. He could feel the things mouthparts scraping and writhing against his chest along with hot air as it huffed and sniffed him. He tried to shift his weight, shove the thing back. He planted his left hand on the thing's shoulder and began to shove.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he wondered why it hadn’t disemboweled him yet.

A warm, wet tongue ran up, from his navel to his sternum, sharp teeth nipped at his skin. 

“What the fuck?!” Came the cry from the corner of the room. The hunter that had Leon was holding his legs, and had buried its face against its crotch, having shredded the man’s pants. The cop ineffectually tried to kick free, propping himself upon his elbows, and yelling “Let go.”

Carlos’s attention snapped back to the hunter that was pinning him when sharp teeth scraped against his nipple. Didn’t break skin, but he flinched and stumbled. Off balance as he was, the Hunter kept him pinned against the wall as it lowered its head, teeth against the waistband of his pants. 

Jesus _Christ_.

“Hm… she seems to like you.” The doctor chimed in. “No accounting for taste, eh?”

As it pulled back slightly, he tried to move, only for the thing’s massive paws to latch onto his hips. The thing’s pointy mandibles spread wide, and it’s jawful of razor sharp teeth dropped. The long, red tongue ran against him.

He wanted to deck the fucking thing. Punch it, maybe try to run. Maybe gouge an eye.

But it _quite literally_ had him by the balls, as that tongue coiled around his cock, the tip running against his testicles. Antagonizing it right now struck him as a _profoundly_ bad idea. He gritted his teeth, and tried not to look at the thing, or its tongue against his dick, or the yellow, pointy teeth millimeters away from him.

“Enjoying yourself?” The intercom asked. He tensed and the fucking lizard's eyes went from staring ahead to looking up at his face. It tilted its head curiously. 

Standing bolt upright, jaw set, fists held at his side, Carlos was _not_ enjoying himself. He looked at Leon, who was trying to trash out from his hunter’s grasp. Carlos looked up at the ceiling, trying to figure out the rust stains. Anything to avoid thinking about the wet, warm appendage running against him, how he was getting harder.

“No need to feel embarrassed, it’s just biology. Stimulation leads to a reaction. Plus... both you and your… partners have plenty of chemical assistance at the moment... just in case you'd feel some performance anxiety, given the circumstances. ” The doctor said again, chuckling when Carlos raised a hand and gave the pane of glass the finger. “Like I said, you were half-right with your guess, Mister Oliveira.”

The hunter's tongue retracted and it pulled its head away from him rapidly, eyes tracking his arm as he shoved it towards the window. It let out a yip as it looked up at his hand., curiously. It returned its attention to his crotch, studying it intently. It let out a series of chitters, lower jaw working up and down as Carlos did his best to lean back and create as much distance from its teeth and his anatomy.

And then it yanked his feet out from under him. He landed on his elbows, tucking his chin to his collarbone to avoid hitting his head. The hunter scrambled on top of him, smelling strongly of chemcials and animal. Like an overchlorinated pool and a zoo's reptile house crashed into each other. She was trying to line herself up, while he tried to scoot out from under it.

Right up until the thing shrieked, a massive palm pushed against his face and shoved him against the floor, holding him in place. A “Wha?!” followed by a thud told him Leon’s hunter was through with the foreplay, too.

Claws clicked against the floor, and the monster dropped to all fours right in Carlos’s peripheral vision as the other hunter held him down. After a pause, it half turned and growled angrily.

“Don’t leave the lady waiting, Officer Kennedy.” The Doctor suggested. “She might get.. _displeased_.”

“Uh…” Leon said, before the hunter shrieked again, turning to face Leon. He _slowly_ approached the monster, hands raised, as it turned away again.

The one on top of Carlos finally lined itself up right, and _dropped_. It howled, he did too. It was a very tight fit, and couldn’t particularly be comfortable for the lizard. Wasn’t fun for him, too. His head pounded as the two hunters shrieked, one less than a foot away from his ear; while the thing rode him roughly; pressing his head and shoulder against the floor with its paws. The thing was heavy, and as it bounced up and down on top of him, he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be walking away from this easily. 

It buried its face against him, chittered and grumbled, licked and nipped.

Hands free, Carlos realized there was approximately nothing he could do. The hunter was a lot stronger than him, not even taking into consideration the weight of her on top of him, or all of the razor sharp claws, forcing more of him into it's body. After the first few inches, he wasn't nearly as tight. Dropping his hands to the side, he bit the inside of his cheek and went back to studying the bloodstains on the ceiling, ignoring the feeling against his cock, or how the creature grumbled and rasped against his skin.

At least, until the thing's paws shifted, digging ruts in the tile on either side of Carlos’s head. That tongue ran from his sternum, up his throat, and across his face, causing him turn his head In precisely the wrong direction. He did not need an eyeful of Leon fucking an overgrown lizard from behind, arms wrapped around the thing’s tail. Especially when Leon turned his head an made momentary eye contact.

Both of them quickly looked away.

The creature kept licking at his face while riding him. Twisting its head to look at him out of one of its eyes, then the other. It was shrieking less, making an odd chirping sound. Carlos bucked his hips in time, mostly-involuntarily but once he realized he was fucking her he didn’t stop. He wanted this to end and hopefully when he was spent the lizard would lose interest.

Hopefully.

Maybe it was the cocktail of chemicals that Umbrella must’ve drugged him with on his way here. Or maybe it was the revulsion he was feeling, maybe he was just imagining things and it wasn’t taking nearly that long. But it just didn’t seem to end. THe Hunter kept bouncing on his cock, mandibles quivering, tongue snaking against his face, pushing through his lips. He felt it squirm between his cheek and teeth, and fought the urge to panic and flail. And she kept riding him.

He didn’t exactly chalk it up as a victory when the hunter shrieked again, shuddered, and went limp atop him. HIs ears were fucking ringing, she was a screamer. Still, she seemed placid enough that, after a few seconds, Carlos rolled, intending to get out from under it.

It responded by hooking it’s paws around him and holding him tight as it rolled, laying on its back with Carlos still buried in it. Spurs in it’s legs poked his back when it locked its legs around him. He tried to brace his hands against her underbellypush off, and she gripped him tighter.

She wasn’t going to let go, apparently.

"Hm. Surprised she's letting you be on top." The intercom said.

"Go fuck yourself!" Carlos screamed, and the fucking hunter flinched and those eyes widened, as his sudden yell must've started it. It's claws raked him. He needed to calm her down--because of everyone here, _she_ needed to be calm. Carlos shoved in, teeth gritted. He fucked it, and fucked it, and fucked it, pushing against the thing, easier now than it had been when she had first ridden him. Eventually he came, the hunter digging claws into his shoulders and pulling him even tighter, nipping at his neck.

The one next to him, getting fucked by Leon, suddenly shrieked and arched her back, Leon landing on his ass. It gripped wheeled around and grabbed him, too.

Bareass, covered in a few small cuts and scrapes, and soft dick still buried inside of a lizard. It was not exactly his proudest moment. He was still a very, very long time, waiting for the Hunter to do something, before feeling safe enough to ask. “Hey cop. You okay?”

“No.”

“Dumb question?”

“Yeah, it was.” 

The two of them were silent for a long time. The hunter’s eyes were closed, Carlos noted, and it was breathing in and out at regular intervals, not really reacting as Carlos shifted and tried to get out from its grip. Occasionally, those mandibles would twitch. Thing seemed to be completely dead to the world—didn’t notice as he was pulling himself free. He pushed one clawed arm off of himself, shifting and shimmying. Its leg kicked out a little as he pulled himself _out_ , but it looked like he was making progress.

“Okay…” Leon said. “This thing’s a heavy sleeper. I think if we’re quiet we can get loose.”

"Way ahead of you." Carlos was working his way out from the monster’s grip. Okay, plan was to get free, and then… hopefully find that door was still unlocked? And the next door after that, and the door after that? It was a shitty plan, but better than to wait to see if the hunter woke up hungry. "Okay, yeah. I think we

Suddenly the intercom crackled to life, loud and high enough to make Carlos wince. Limbs failed wildly, and Carlos had to get the fuck away from the decapitation hazard as a short, clipped shriek sounded. The creature kicked and thrashed its way back to its feet, looking around, the freaky mouthparts it had working in what appeared to be nervousness.

Then it locked it’s eyes on Carlos, crab walking away from it.

She was on him in a split second, tongue lolling out against his face. He shuddered as it chittered and trilled, working its way down his body again. He was _spent_ she was not going to get a reaction.

Well, at least the theory that they’d be hungry when they woke up wasn’t panning out.

* * *

Alex Wesker wrote up her observations longhand. She could transcribe them later. The previous attempts at Hunter husbandry had been… a lot messier. The hunters were quite choosey in terms f mates. But the right combination of chemical assistance for the Hunters, and a good choice of studs seemed to have done the trick.

Misters Kennedy and Oliveira had in fact, been perfect for the job.

She _accidentally_ hit the intercom button, which she omitted from the report. Didn’t need to write that part down. Absolutely wasn’t thinking of Mr. Oliveira’s smartass remarks when she hit the button. _Subjects HB-0987c and HB-0988d were roused from their torpor state when the male volunteers attempted to extricate themselves. Rather than aggression, they continued to display arousal._

Hm. 

She wasn’t necessarily _jealous_ of her hunters, but Kennedy and Oliveira were pretty good at improvising, all things considered. If nothing else, 0987c had found a much better use for Oliveira’s mouth than he could’ve come up with. Very fascinating behavior. She had made backups of the surveillance footage--she'd need to carefully review it. Alone. On her own time. A fascination with the monstrous was hardly unusual. And given her current tasks, it probably was an asset--several other researchers had asked for transfers out once the question of _breeding_ Hunters was raised

As she finished her writeup, noting the success but emphasizing that there needed to be repeat sessions to ensure successful breeding, she remembered that the _other_ experiment needed to be monitored.

She planted a foot against the wall and shoved, letting the chair slide across the floor; turning around when it slowed to halt. On the other side of the observation room, another one way mirror into an identical experimental suite.

Ms. Redfield had her face buried in the front of the bench she was strapped to. The spy, an ‘Ada Wong’, had her eyes screwed shut. Officer Valentine was glaring up, although with the one-way glass, she was staring holes in the empty space two feet to Alex’s side. And on top of each woman, bound facedown, was a Licker, putting forth vigorous effort, tongues whipping as they turned their head’s upward, shrieking loud enough she didn’t even need an intercom to hear them. When she had discretely informed someone outside the company about this program, and they learned the candidates were 'Officer Valentine, Chris's Sister, and Ms. Wong', that person had discretely asked for his own copy of the footage.

She hoped he did not mind the restraints. Lickers needed a little more help with breeding than the hunters. The gags and plugs were needed to keep them on target. Blind as they were—they had a habit of finding any hole that they'd fit in and thrusting—typical men. So Alex had to limit their options to just the vagina. Meanwhile, the females locked in with Oliveira and Kennedy knew what they wanted. 

Although, even if they didn’t need the help, Alex wondered if maybe she should’ve gagged Oliveira and Kennedy—or at least Oliveira.

Next time.

**Author's Note:**

> To Silex, you had _way_ too many good pairing suggestions, so I hope I hit one you liked with this!


End file.
